but indifferent aim. Frank had switched out the headlight and the gangsters could see only a ghostly gray shadow on the water.
The Sleuth picked up speed and the two motorboats behind began to rock and sway as they surged forward. Frank knew that he could not go too fast, otherwise the boats that he was towing would run foul of one another or of his own craft and cause disaster. He contented himself by moving ahead at a moderate rate of speed, knowing well that once he cleared the cove he could afford to snap his fingers at the gangsters marooned on the island.
Shouts interspersed with revolver shots told him of their pursuers' wrath. The flashlights danced like fireflies. The full extent of the trick that had been played upon them was just beginning to dawn on the men marooned on the shore.
The headland loomed to the side, then slipped slowly by. The motorboat was throbbing its way out to open water.
"We've beaten 'em," declared Frank exultantly.
"I'll say we have! They'll never get off that island unless they swim."
"From the fuss they're making, they seem to know it, too."
"Where to now?"
